


Marriage and Magnolias

by Springmagpies



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluff, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:13:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24100372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Springmagpies/pseuds/Springmagpies
Summary: For as long as Hunter can remember, he has loved Bobbi Morse. But as years go on and chances pass the two of them by, he worries if he has let her slip away for good.
Relationships: Lance Hunter/Bobbi Morse
Comments: 10
Kudos: 18





	Marriage and Magnolias

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lazyfish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/gifts).



> This fic is inspired by the song "Marry Me" by Thomas Rhett, the song that Al (@bobbimorseisbisexual) got stuck in my head and made me cry with. Thanks Al. Hope you enjoy this fic!

Hunter hadn’t meant to be snooping. Okay, so he had a little. But it wasn’t his fault that Bobbi Morse was so interesting. Besides, she had been out on her large front porch in sight of the whole neighborhood so he couldn’t be faulted, really. 

“Then why were you hiding behind a tree?” his mother asked, once she had pulled him back through the kitchen door by the ear. She nodded for him to sit at the small kitchen table. 

“So as not to interrupt,” he said simply, plopping down in his seat. Apparently, that wasn’t the correct answer.

The small town that the Hunter family had moved too wasn’t the most exciting of places and he didn’t have many people to talk to. Everyone was either old, borning, or both. The only exception was Bobbi who lived in the big white house down the way. He had only talked to her once, but he wanted to talk to her all the time. She was his age, a whole seven-years-old, and had the prettiest voice he had ever heard in his life. Plus, he had seen her doing cartwheels in the yard so he knew she would be able to keep up with him. And judging by the way she raced her dog around the big oak tree, the one that lay on the border between her house and Miss Marigold’s, he also had to admit that she was probably faster than him. But only just. All of these facts culminated in his fascination with her. All he had to do was work up the nerve to step beyond the tree, and that wasn’t going to happen any time soon now that his mother had found his hiding spot. What was he supposed to do, walk straight up the front path without making sure the time was right? 

“I don’t want you bothering the Morse girl,” his mother admonished, starting right back up on the house chores. She had been able to spot her son from the kitchen window and had acted right away. The situation dealt with, she could return to the dishes she had been washing. 

He crossed his arms on the table he was sat at, putting his chin on his hands.“But I wasn’t bothering her.”

“No, you were just watching her. If you had said something you would’ve been bothering her.”

“I don’t think she would be that bothered,” he mumbled, “not if I had just said hello.”

* * *

A week later marked the first day of summer, meaning that the leash that parents had on their children suddenly got a whole lot longer. Hunter could now stray as far as he liked as long as he was back by dinner and so he took the opportunity to finally have a proper conversation with Bobbi. 

Stopping behind the tree, his mother was out and therefore couldn’t catch him there, he caught Bobbi coming through the screen door and onto the front porch. Her hair was pulled back off her face with barrettes and she had on a nice white summer frock without any shoes. In her hands were two dolls and she had a book under her arm, most likely as a backup activity. She sat down on the topmost step and started combing out one of the doll’s long blonde locks. It was the perfect opportunity for him to walk up and say hello.

“Hi,” Hunter said, coming out from behind the tree and making his way up the path. 

Not startled in the slightest by his sudden appearance, Bobbi lifted her head and cocked it to one side. “Hi, back,” she said. 

“I’m Lance Hunter,” he said.

“I remember,” she said, “I met you when you moved in. You’re also the boy who stole Mr. Archibald’s peaches.”

“Just one.”

“One handful.”

“Well, I could only carry about four.”

She laughed, lighting up her whole face like a mirror catching sunlight. Hunter thought it was the loveliest thing he had ever seen. 

“Would you like to play with me?” he asked, stepping up a bit more so that his toes touched the first porch step.

She shrugged, her fingers stalling in the doll’s hair. “Sure. Sounds like fun.”

* * *

Eight summers later Bobbi’s cousin was getting married and the whole neighborhood was getting excited about it. Bobbi, however, was less excited as it meant that her house was nearly bursting with close and distant relatives. So, in order to escape, she knocked on Hunter’s window at dusk with a blanket under her arm and a bag of peaches she had smuggled from the bowl in the kitchen. 

“If you were to get married, where would you want to do it?” she asked as they laid under Miss Sue Ellen’s magnolia tree. 

Hunter swallowed his bite of peach, wiping the juice from off his chin. “I don’t know,” he said. 

“I’d want it outside. Not too big so my daddy doesn’t spend too much.”

“How nice of you,” Hunter teased.

Bobbi flung out her arm, hitting him in the chest. “Shut up and listen to my dream wedding.”

He laughed, coming to lie down on his back next to her as she repositioned her shoulder blades on the blanket. He closed his eyes and listened to her voice, the voice he still thought was the prettiest he’d ever heard. 

“I want magnolia blossoms,” she continued, whispering into the darkening sky and watching as the blossoms above them darkened with it. “And I want a dress that’s not too fancy. Linen and lace and blush pink flowers. I want it to feel like everyone is just gathering in the sunshine for a party. Not this hullabaloo Ginny is making everyone go through.”

Hunter smiled and put his hands on his chest. “It sounds nice, Bob.”

“I thought so,” she hummed. He could hear her breathe next to him and the sound nearly soothed him to sleep. “And what about you,” she said, after a few moments of just them breathing. 

“I still don’t know. I guess I’ll be traditional. Black suit, black tie, and the like.”

“How handsome,” she joked, smacking his chest again.

He caught her hand, running his fingers down the veins on her wrist. “I’m always handsome.”

“Mmhmm,” she hummed before it turned into a breathy laugh. 

He turned his head to face her, his mouth open in indignation. “I am handsome,” he said, poking her side. She turned her head away from the tree branches and towards him, leaving a lot less room between them than either of them had anticipated. 

“Okay,” she said, her breath warm on his face, “you’re handsome.”

Her eyes flicked across his face. Her head was slightly higher than his on the blanket and so as she looked at him he could see her eyelashes flutter. He picked himself up on his elbow and her eyes traveled with his movement. Willing every last ounce of courage he had, he bent down, his lips hovering ever so close to hers before--

“Barbara Morse! What in the hell do you think you're doing out here?” 

Hunter leaped off of the blanket in a singular arch while Bobbi scrambled up to a sitting position. Looking off into the blue and purple horizon, they saw a shadowy figure and the source of the voice walking toward them. As the figure got closer, they realized it was Ginny.

“What do you want Virginia?” Bobbi asked, but she was already getting to her feet as she anticipated the response.

“Your mom’s been calling for you, finally sent me out to come grab you.” 

Bobbi started gathering up the blanket and peach pits while Hunter had a quick staring competition with Ginny, only breaking it when she raised an eyebrow. She was obviously containing herself from saying all the things she wished to say. 

“You better get home, Mr. Hunter,” she smirked, “I bet your mom is waiting up on you too. Come on Barbara, we best be getting home.”

As she walked into the summer night and back to her house with her cousin, Bobbi sent a look over her shoulder. Her eyes were soft even in the darkness and she had the slightest upturn to her lips. Still, as she turned back around, Hunter couldn’t help but feel that whatever had almost happened between them had been his one shot. And he had blown it.

* * *

The old Morse house was covered in streamers and bouquets of flowers for Bobbi’s wedding. As he walked up the familiar path and stepped up onto the front porch, Hunter couldn’t help the hollow feeling that took root in the pit of his stomach. Cars were lined up and down the block and people were milling about inside and out in anticipation of the ceremony. There had to be over a hundred people on the property. Some were already outside getting seated while others were writing their names in the little welcoming book. Hunter, however, was part of the group looking over the pictures in the entryway of the house. Bobbi and her husband to be. From what Hunter had heard--he had moved away a year ago and only got gossip from his mother--she was marrying some bigshot marketing man from New York, and from the pictures he was looking at the guy looked like a massive prick. The man had so much product in his hair it looked wet. 

However, Hunter wasn’t there to tear down Bobbi’s relationship. He was there to support her in whatever form she needed him to. It had been nearly ten years since they had almost kissed under the magnolia tree and though Hunter would always secretly love Bobbi Morse, part of that meant that he would always be there for her. No matter what. He just had to be somewhat bitter in secret. 

Fixing the cuffs of his shirt and his black tie, Hunter walked farther into the house. He said hello to anyone who greeted him, but mainly he was just focused on not fleeing the scene. The closer he got to going outside and sitting among the many guests awaiting the start of the wedding, the stronger his instinct to run slowly became. In an attempt to delay the inevitable and wishing for a break from the crowd, he ducked down a hallway under the guise of needing to use the bathroom. He passed pictures of Bobbi and her family, all in assorted frames, his steps dampened by the thick rug her mother liked to line the hallways in. As he walked, he noticed that one of the doors was opened, the one he knew was attached to the guest room. Curiosity peaked, Hunter moved to look into the room.

The moment he stuck his head in, he once again felt like the seven-year-old boy peeking behind the oak tree. The room was filled with Bobbi and her bridesmaids, all finishing up final touches on their makeup and hair. 

“Hunter?” Bobbi said, looking at him through the reflection of the large standing mirror. 

His throat felt clogged and dry like he had tried to swallow cotton balls and his body refused to move out of the doorway. Bobbi looked beautiful, standing with a long veil down her back and a dress that poofed out like a princess gown. She was stunning. However, Hunter didn’t know if it was because the window in the room faced away from the sun or if it was the look that she was giving him, but the glow that normally surrounded her had dimmed a bit. 

“Uh, hey,” he said, coughing to clear his throat. Before he could say much more, one of Bobbi’s bridesmaids blocked his view. Hunter couldn’t remember the bridesmaid's name for the life of him, but he remembered he didn’t like her much. 

“She needs to finish getting ready,” the woman said. She had her hand on the door and her face was set like a teacher telling off a student.

“Is she alright?” he tried to ask, but the shutting of the door cut him off. He stood there, his shiny black shoes sinking into the rug and his heart meeting it there. The walls started to close in on him while the length of the hallway stretched out like time as he walked back to the gathering. When he had made it back into the entry of the house, instinct took over.

“I’m sorry, Bob,” he said over his shoulder. And he truly meant it. But he just had to go. Loosening his tie and taking off his suit jacket, Hunter marched out of the old Morse house and started his walk past the oak tree and off into the afternoon heat. 

Not really knowing where his feet were taking him, Hunter pulled his flask out of his pocket and took a large swig of its contents. He barely registered the feeling as it burned the back of his throat and twisted the cap shut without even realizing that he’d done so. He just kept walking, his shirt starting to stick to his chest and his tie continually feeling like it was tightening around his neck. Before he knew it, he was walking bang on towards Miss Sue Ellen’s magnolia tree. He didn’t even know if it was still Miss Sue Ellen’s, but it would always be to him. Just as Bobbi would always be the love of his life. 

Placing his hand on the trunk for leverage, Hunter slid down so that his back was to the tree, his arms draped over his knees and his butt getting wet from the grass. He sat there for a good bit of time, underneath Miss Sue Ellen’s old magnolia tree twisting and untwisting the cap on his flask, when a figure came flying towards him just as the sun started to set. It slowed when it spotted him, going from a sprint to a march. Framed by the setting sun, Hunter could only make out the tall silhouette and the halo of golden hair. 

“Bob?” he called out, squinting into the last bits of blazing sunshine. 

Taking a few steps closer, he could finally see her clearly. She had taken off the veil but the magnolia in her hair was still pinned in place. She had changed out of the wedding dress into one that was lighter with strappy sleeves. She must have it worn as she had gotten ready that morning. The makeup she had gotten ready with was smeared around her eyes, flecks of inky mascara freckling her cheeks and leftover eyeshadow glitter making her glow. 

Hunter leapt to his feet, but didn’t come any closer. He couldn’t get his legs to work. She watched his movement, opening her mouth only to take in a shuddery breath. Instead of trying to say anything, she closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around his neck. And at that moment, that was all she needed to say.

* * *

There were many nights, after moving away, where Hunter would look up at dark his bedroom ceiling. He would close his eyes, take in a breath, and pretend that there were tree branches above him and not a half-painted ceiling. And he would dream of linen and lace and Bobbi.

Now, two years after getting together, Hunter didn’t have to close his eyes to see linen and lace and Bobbi. It was right in front of him. The wedding was small, private, and perfumed by the early summer breeze. The trees were wrapped in lights, twinkling brighter and brighter the farther the sun set. 

He looked at Bobbi, dancing with her father, and smiled. She looked just as he always thought of her. Like she was a mirror reflecting sunlight, bright and beautiful and spirited. And he thanked the heavens that it hadn’t been too late, that night under the magnolia tree. 


End file.
